If there were any justice in the world, Sam would have a whopping hangover the next morning. But maybe he didn’t have as much to drink as I’d thought, because he seems fine. So fine, actually, that I catch him whistling in the bathroom while he’s shaving his face.
What the hell is he so happy about?
I say as much to him while he’s putting on his tie, and he blinks a few times, surprised. “Uh, I don’t know. It’s a nice morning.”
“I thought you might be hungover.”
He rolls his eyes. “I told you I didn’t drink that much.” “You were acting like you did.”
He doesn’t respond to that, but while he’s putting on his shoes, he starts whistling again. I’ve never known Sam to whistle before, but after one evening with Monica, suddenly he’s a goddamn teapot. Did he whistle like this when we were first dating?
“Do you think Monica is pretty?” I blurt out. “Pretty?”
“Yes.”
“No way.” He smiles crookedly. “She’s not pretty at all. Just the opposite. She’s really horrible to look at. I didn’t want to be mean or anything, but I had to squeeze my eyes shut all night like this.” He scrunches his eyes closed in demonstration. “I hope she didn’t notice.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
“I don’t know much about women, but I know there’s only one right answer when your wife asks you if another woman is pretty.”
Fair enough. “You just seemed to be having a really good time with her last night.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Abby, you’re the one who wanted to have her over for dinner last night. And you’re the one who showed up two hours late. You made me promise to be ‘well-behaved.’ So she shows up and I’m nice to her, and now I’m in trouble?”
“Well, there’s nice and there’s nice.”
“It’s not like we were making out, Abby. We were just talking.”
He’s actually making some reasonable points. So why can’t I get rid of that tight, awful feeling in my chest?
“She called you Sammy,” I say. “So?”
“It seemed a little… familiar. Also, you hate being called Sammy.” “I don’t hate it.”
“You told me you hate it.”
He yanks his keys off the dresser. “Fine, I hate it. I hate it and I hate her and I don’t want you to invite her here ever again. Okay? Happy?”
I lower my eyes. There’s part of me that realizes I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t help it. Something isn’t right. “Are you going to that ultrasound appointment?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, I am.” I bite my lip.
“Look, this isn’t about Monica,” he says. “I want to see the baby. It’s my baby too, and I think I should be allowed to go.” He frowns at me. “I didn’t say anything about the fact that you never even told me about the other appointment, but from now on, I want to go.”
I was afraid he was going to say that. And he’s right—he deserves to be there as much as I do. Or admittedly, more than I do. I’ll be adopting this baby, but it’s his biological child. And I want to share this with him because I love him. I just wish she didn’t have to be there.
Of course, that’s impossible since the baby is literally inside her. “Abby.” His voice softens. “I get why you’re upset, but you shouldn’t
be. It’s like you said—this is what we’ve always wanted. You should be happy.”
His kind words help, but not completely. I take a deep breath, trying to put my finger on the exact source of my misery.
“She said it was ‘our baby.’” Sam wrinkles his brow. “What?”
“That’s what Monica said when she was talking about the baby. She called it ‘our baby.’”
“Right. It is our baby.”
“Yes, but she didn’t say ‘our’ meaning yours and mine. She said ‘our’ meaning, presumably, hers.”
He shakes his head. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying, what if she wants to keep the baby?”
“That’s what our contract is for, right? We can take her to court.”
Except what if she wants to keep you too?
Sam isn’t even thinking that way though. He’s not worried about falling under Monica’s spell. I wouldn’t have worried about it either, except I saw the look on his face when he was listening to that heartbeat. His child is in her womb. That’s got to be messing with his head.
“Come here, Abby.” Sam holds out his arms and I fall into them, nuzzling my head in his shoulder. Despite everything, being in his arms makes me feel warm and safe. “Don’t worry so much. It’s going to be fine.”
I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost him.
